Jōji, my Papa
by jennibearrr
Summary: Jōji has many identities. But ever single side of him leads to one thing: my home. From the literary tale of "Naomi" by Jun'ichirō Tanizaki. (痴人の愛)


_Joji, Papa_

_Reflecting on the Motions of Life: By Naomi_

It was a simple hello that began it all. Ever since you started to work at the café, this man would always be here, watching. For two months, all he did was ate small trinkets and drank green tea. You were fifteen at the time when you two first met; it started with small hellos and goodbyes, but gradually progressed to "how are you?" or "how is your day going?" The longer you knew each other, the closer you began to get. Occasionally, he brought you to the cinema and many restaurants. Your disposition was always quiet, but he seemed to understand that by looking in your eyes. Mr. Kawai-his first identity to you- was a good uncle; he treated you to small things that made you very happy in the short amount of time that you knew him.

I have always looked different, but to have a name to my appearance was relieving. More often than once, the mirror was a constant reminder of your shell: dull, grey, and gloomy. You were withdrawn in yourself and passed through life just living. Your past life before this small café was not something that anyone would be proud of; your _family_ wasn't something that you wanted to speak about. They were neither your shelter nor your home. But the recent events left me feeling alive and I'm very grateful for it. In meeting Mr Kawai, you found a home within someone.

One day early in your relationship, Mr. Kawai did something amazing. He offered to take you in to study English and Music! In exchange, you were required to quit the café job to focus entirely on your studies. But, you didn't mind and accepted the condition without a second thought. At last, someone took notice of you and gave your life some meaning other than being a lowly, strange-looking Eurasian woman. He continued to offer to take you in at no expense with the promise of an education. With something so great, you cannot refuse without deep regret in the future.

After good grace and prayers for my health the exchange with your _family (which still serves no importance in your life or mine now_,) both of you began to look for a home to reside in. It was not easy to find a place, but eventually you found a house nearby Omori Station. When you first saw it, your joy could not be contained and you relished on the fact that it had looked so fresh and modern. Immediately, Mr. Kawai agreed to rent it. It was late May when you settled into your new home. It was a beautiful home that still has many memoriesMr. Kawai became Jōji by his request and you both began your lives as _friends_, but you knew the implications of his request; your family did not spare your innocence since their intentions were to make you a _geisha._ But you settled with a newly named Jōji that will treasure for the rest of life.

It was late May when we settled into our new home and my guardian's new name was _Joji_.

Three.  
During the next two years had passed with laughter and the beginning of your new stage in life. One day when you decided to be bathed by Jōji, your pet names made their debut. You were his _Big Baby_ and he was (and still is) your _Papa._ It was long before you decided to declare your attachment to your new _Papa _and he responded the same. You wanted to be his everyone and his only one, the perfect Western woman. During your studies, Papadecided to intervene. He spoke with Miss Harrison about your progress and scolded you for not knowing anymore than you did at that moment. Papa frustrated you very often during this time so you would purposely answer incorrectly to anger him further. His method of teaching was strange and focused on memorizing instead of learning. When you did something wrong, he would yell and scream and you would fall silent. You did not think too much of this though; he would always forgive you in the end. When he overstepped his boundaries, you threw him glares that made his body shudder. You always told yourself, "I am not an idiot. I am not a child. I am not your child." Jōji was your husband guardian while Papa became your father.

Spoils for me. Papa always gave you everything you asked for without too much of a fight. (This side of him appeared more often.) You had collected so many fabrics to clothe yourself in; most of them were too strange to wear in public, but they were there for your own entertainment and treasure. Though your material possessions were nice to look at, they lost the initial charm they used to have. Your lifestyle was mundane; you both stayed inside your Omori home everyday doing small, meaningless tasks. You wanted something new.

At moments, I forgot that I was married to Papa.

You began your dance lessons with Miss Sugizaki with Jōji and even longer since you began my relationship with Hamada. He kept you company when Jōji was working and you had extra time in the morning. He looked at you just as Jōji had a long time ago; you were a brand new treasure to this boy and he was in the palm of your hands.

Just like Papa was.

And speaking of Jōji, he was lacking in dance. The man could not keep up with the rest of the group and was beginning to weaken your image of being a proper, Western lady. You scolded him. Jōji would never live up to your expectations of Western culture at the time. He should learn from thought of Ma-chan often when Jōji stumbled. He did not have proper training, but managed to dance gracefully and with anyone far better than Jōji. Next time you saw him, he became your dance partner and one of many lovers.

One night you convinced Jōji to go to El Dorado, but you were frustrated before you even got there. The struggle for clothing was ridiculous and he wouldn't follow your rules to this gathering. You knew about the Western world and _this novice_ needed your guidance. There would be many Westerns socializing there with the potential to have some fun too.

When you walked into dance hall, you could feel everyone's gaze. Many women were jealous of your beauty (you concluded.) But after the initial entry, the stares were uncomfortable and you hurried Jōji to your seats with everyone. Ma-chan and Hamada looked wonderful.

Throughout the night, you educated Papa on etiquette, dance, and dress code for the typical Western man. Jōji questioned you on everything and was rewarded with a scolding for ignorance. Whenever Jōji embarrassed himself, you saved him with his country bumpkin background and lack of knowledge in the Western culture. Hamada defended him and irked you, but dismissed it.. Everyone continued to dance the entire night, but when Jōji came to dance, he messed up a simple two-step! You were mortified and stomped off the dance floor with an "encore" trailing you. Your confidence dropped in a heartbeat when a Western came up to you and asked to dance; Miss Harrison's English lessons left you. You felt your face heat up as you went to dance. As you were dancing, a surge of jealousy shook your core; Jōji had danced with another woman. He promised you that he would love you and only you. You brushed off the Western's dance as pity to mask the jealousy of Papa's traitorous act.

Everyone left the dance hall late and took the train to their homes. When Jōji and you were alone, you reminded him that you were his treasure with your presence and allure.

Your happiness was temporarily shattered when Hamada told Jōji about the multiple affairs you had with him, Kumagai, Hamada, Seki, and Nakamura that took place in your own home and Kamakura the Omori meetings, Kamakura…everything and everybody! Jōji was furious, but Papa was devastated at the women he raised. Hamada told him everything.

You promised to be good and honor your commitment towards him; Papa forgave you. You were in unfamiliar territory with the tension slowly rising. He watched you in everyday life, making sure your behavior was not out of the norm. But then one night, he caught you with Kumagai. He ordered you to leave the house over and over again. Your heart shattered; Papa was sending you away just like your family had years ago at the café. You begged for forgiveness. This was your home. He was your home. But his anger was far too great and he threw names at you in hatred. He pummeled you with his fists when your pleas increased. You gave up and resigned to retrieving your things. Papa wouldn't allow you to without a tiny scuffle. After you gathered a few of your things, you bid him adieu. His words hurt far too much to say anymore. Afterwards, you wandered to many houses that Westerners were occupying. You have all the things you ever wanted: Westerns, Western culture surrounding your life, luxury, freedom, etc. But something was missing. You missed Jōji and your Papa. Your security and unconditional love was gone.

For many days, you dropped by Jōji's to pick up small possessions, tempting him to let you in againtaunting his loss in me. His search for me wasn't as discreet as he might have believed. Hamada was not so sly. This visit was different though. You engaged in a conversation one night about your recent whereabouts and whom you were staying with. You successfully diverted the chatter to a proposition in erasing the past and becoming friends. He questioned the idea; Joji was unsure about the future relationship both of you would have with each other since you were married_. _You reassured him that nothing would happen between you both.

Everyday afterwards was a battle. Jōji continued to have multiple temptations to touch you, suggested becoming his wife again, and had naughty thoughts. You would always remind him that you were friends and nothing more. You gave him friend kisses for immediate satisfaction when he was being a good boy. You kept Jōji on his toes, twisting your little game until he submitted.

Your intentions were good in the beginning. And please do not misinterpret my intentions. You did not want your Papa to leave your. You wanted to be his treasure to love and adore. You wanted to remain the reason why he wants to go home. He was your home and you wanted it to remain that way.

Papa stopped having his fits of hysteria, but you told him you wanted them to come back. They were fun to watch and proved your effect on him. After you asked if he was recovered, you made a request for him to shave your face; your excuse was that it was far too troublesome to do it yourself since you were also going to shave from the back of your neck to your shoulders. The only condition was not to touch you. You could tell he was nervous. It wasn't until he started to shave your underarm that he broke down. Papa went into a frenzy and pleaded for you to stop with your games. He dropped on all fours and begged for you to ride him. You gave into his request only if he complied with your own. He agreed to everything without hesitation. You gave into a need that was starved for many years… Both of his sides joined together for my pleasure and security.

_The End._

As I sipped on my black tea and milk, I kissed the small notebook hidden within the pages of _Vogue. _ My memoirs were completed in the luxury of my room. George, a recent name given to Jōji, was off doing his own business. Until the sunsets and the night is filled with life, I enjoy sanctuary, awaiting the adventure that tonight will bring and the closure of returning to my husband, father, and lover in the early morning. Years have passed.

I live in luxury with Papa, (but sometimes his name is George.) He follows me around and does my bidding. My freedom is wonderful; I go dancing every night and/or am invited to one of my Western friends to enjoy the life. Ma-chan and Hamada are no longer in my life; Japanese men bore me now. I am satisfied with my way of life (and so is George.) He loves me and I love my Papa.

_He'll always be my Papa._


End file.
